


I Shall Follow You Home

by Marie_Phantom



Series: Tumbleweed (Blowing In The Wind) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements, attempted suicides, offensive language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2014-09-18
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:39:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Phantom/pseuds/Marie_Phantom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Winter Soldier is a machine. The Winter Soldier has no feeling. But throughout it's history, the Winter Soldier has repeatedly tried to end it's life.</p>
<p>5 times Bucky tried to get to Steve, and the one time he managed it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Shall Follow You Home

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [I Shall Follow You Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3158414) by [ogawaryoko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ogawaryoko/pseuds/ogawaryoko)



> I know I said that I was going to post in order, put this story has been nagging at me since I re-read "He's Worth Waiting For". 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this, and the next story will be posted in order and be slightly happier.

_From a manual regarding the Winter Soldier:_

_"Do NOT leave the Asset on it's own. It has proven that it cannot be trusted on it's own, as it has repeatedly tried to decommission itself . A member of HYDRA must always be with it to stop these attempts."_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

The Winter Soldier has  _two_ missions.

One: the missions it has been defrosted for. The mission on a piece of paper, the mission to kill someone.

Two: a secret mission. The Asset doesn't understand why it has this mission, but it always tried to act upon it. It was the most important mission, a mission that must be completed to reach the  _blueblondkindsmallMINE._

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

1\. 1974

The Asset was filthy, covered in blood and black with smoke. The scientists surrounding it scrunched up their noses and roughly stripped it, shoving it towards the shower unit.

"Jesus, he stinks." One muttered. He pinched the black clothing between his fingers and decided that it needed to be incinerated, as nothing was going to be able to get those stains out.

"He did just blow up a school." Said another man, turning on the hose and pointing it directly in the direction of the Asset. it didn't move under the harsh, cold spray, but stood still and let it's head hand, long brown hair dripping and eyes staring unseeing at the ground.

"How did it get so much blood on it? I thought it was just a simple demolition!" The first scientist complained. He walked to the Asset with a wire scrubbing brush and rubbed it over it's skin, causing it to bleed. The Asset didn't move.

"He needed to kill those kids for sure. Make a point, or so I heard."

"What was so important about those kids?"

"Supreme court children. And I think the Vice-Presidents runt was there as well."

The second scientist grinned. "Not anymore!" He moved away from the Asset and gestured to the first man to spray the Asset down again. This time the Asset flinched as cold water was sprayed directly into the new cuts on it's skin, but like last time, it didn't move.

"Those clothes ruined?" The first scientist asked, gesturing to the mass of black torn clothing. The second man nodded.

"I'll get rid of them." He picked up the bundle and moved out of the room, the other man following as he stripped off his gloves and went to get a towel.

Coming back into the room, he dropped the towel in shock as he saw the Asset repeatedly ram his head against the tile wall. A sizeable dent showed that he had been at it since they were gone, and blood was streaming down his face and dripping to the floor.

"GET IN HERE!" The scientist cried, running over and slipping on the floor. He threw his arms around the Asset and toppled backwards. The Asset gave a cry and struggled in the scientists arms, trying to get back to the wall.

"What the fuck?" a man arriving at the door asked faintly as he observed the scene.

"SOMEONE TRANQ THE BASTARD!" The scientist holding the Asset yelled. The Asset, hearing the words, redoubled his efforts to get back to what he was doing.

A man came hurrying over shorty, brandishing a needle which he stuck in the Assets neck. The Asset moaned weakly and it's eye rolled back into it's head. Finally it stopped moving and the scientist holding it shoved it off.

"What the hell was it doing?" A man asked, helping the scientist to his feet. 

"In a person, I'd say it would have been trying to commit suicide." The scientist straitened his shirt, and then, feeling the back stick to his back with water, gave the Asset a vicious kick to the ribs. "But what it was doing? I have no idea."

"Do you think it's malfunctioning?" The man who sedated the Asset asked, walking out of the room with the scientist. A member of HYDRA was outside the door, ready to drag the Asset back to the chair for Wipe and Cryo.

"Don't know. I just don't understand what it could possibly have in it's head that would make it do that. It's a machine, not a person. It doesn't think at all."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

2\. 1979

The Asset was out of cryo, shaking and whimpering as its nervous system tried to come online. Every so often, it's limbs would twitch and it would turn it's head to the side so it could vomit. 

"Does it do this every time?" Lukin asked. The scientist, now older and more knowledgeable.

"I'm afraid so. It'll take about 4 hours until it's fully functional."

Lukin growled. "We don't have that time. The mission needs to be completed soon, within the day. That includes travel time."

The scientist sweated as he saw Lukin get angrier, and he went over and slapped the Asset hard in the face. "Wake up now."

The Asset turned his head and his arm gripped the sleeve of the scientist. Its blue eyes were wide and pleading.

"Disgusting creature." Lukin muttered and turned to walk out of the room. "Get him prepped now."

"Fucking man thinks he can get whatever he wants." The scientist muttered, gesturing to the men standing on the sides so they could come forward and bring its armour and weapons. The Asset saw what the men were carrying and moaned, turning over and trying to curl up into a ball on the table.

"Get dressed." The scientist ordered and stepped back. He turned and walked out of the room, intent on brining the Asset it's nutrition drink.

He came back to yells of shock. The scientist and Lukin walked back in to the room to find three of the HYDRA agents dead, the others holding the Asset down. There was blood everywhere.

"What happened?" The scientist asked, aghast as he dropped the drink. Lukin didn't even notice when it splattered all over his shoes.

"We turned our backs," said the man holding on to the Assets shoulders. His blond hair flicked into his eyes and the scientist could see that it was restraining the Asset around a broken wrist, "and the next thing, it had killed the others and got one of our knives."

"Is the blood from it?"

The Agent nodded. "Yes." He grimaced but continued. "It opened both arms, from wrist to elbow. It's bleeding everywhere." The Asset struggled weakly. 

The scientist groaned and looked at Lukin, who was puce with anger. "There's no way it'll be able to go on the mission."

"Can't you just sew it up?" Lukin said. The agent on the ground snorted, but when the scientist looked at him, his face was perfectly neutral.

"It'll have lost finger dexterity. It could't hold toast, let alone a gun."

Lukin growled and stalked out of the room. The scientist walked to the Asset, who now had it's eyes closed. It's arms were wrapped in strips, and blood continued to drip from beneath the bandages.

"Good work..."

"Pierce, sir." The agent with the broken wrist stood up and saluted. "Alexander Pierce."

The scientist nodded and grabbed the Assets legs. "Get it's head. We need to repair it before it can be put back in cryo."

Pierce nodded and grabbed it's shoulders with his one hand. He helped heave the Asset back on to the table and stood to the side, watching with narrowed blue eyes as the scents stitched the Asset's arms back up.

This Asset was interesting. Very interesting. He couldn't wait to find out more.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

3\. 1985

Pierce knew that he wasn't a faggot, but the Asset was damn attractive, and he wasn't the kind of person to overlook a warm hole when one was virtually being offered.

So he was fucking it, on his bed, while his wife wasn't in town. 

This was the first time that the Asset had been to America in a long time, and Pierce had been careful not to let the Asset see any of the sights, in case it triggered a malfunction. They were in New York, dangerous territory.

The Asset was lying on the bed, legs spread and looking blankly at the ceiling. Pierce would have found it unnerving if he had been looking at it's face, but instead he was focused on his own pleasure, moving roughly and harshly. He threw his head back when he came, and the Asset didn't move.

Pierce collapsed by it's side, pushing it roughly so that it's back was to him, and panted as he tried to regain his breath. There was a heavy silence.

"Go to the bathroom, get cleaned up." Pierce ordered. He threw his arm over his eyes and breathed. He heard the Asset get up and move to where the bathroom was. It knew the exact layout of the room, having been here multiple times.

Pierce dozed slightly, but when he woke up he knew that the Asset hadn't come out of the bathroom. He frowned and sat up, looking towards the door. Steam was coming out from where it was slightly open, and as Pierce walked to the door, he saw the fogged up mirror.

And the window, which showed a panoramic view of the Brooklyn Bridge.

"Oh, shit." He swore and swung open the door.

The Asset had managed to tie all of the towels together to form a crude noose, and was hanging from the shower rod. His face was turning magenta, and his eyes had rolled into the back of his head, only showing the whites.

"Oh, shit!" Pierce grabbed his toothbrush cup and swung it at the mirror. It shattered and he grabbed the largest piece, wrapping his hand in his dressing gown and starting to saw at the rope. The threads parted and the Asset hit the floor, knocking it's head against the bath. Pierce dropped the mirror and quickly untied the noose from around it's neck.

"Breathe, you bastard." He swore, slapping the Asset roughly on the cheeks. The Asset blinked and then heaved a breath, its hands scrabbling on the slick tile. Pierce leaned back against the bath and closed his eyes in relief.

"You fucking shit, do you have any idea how much paperwork you would have cost me!" He snarled at the Asset, who moaned and curled up into a small ball. It was mumbling something under his breath. Pierce leaned in closer.

"He's dead, he's dead, he's dead, he's dead..." the Asset was mumbling in a small voice.

Pierce sighed and stood up. He walked to his phone and rang the lab, telling them that the Asset had malfunctioned again and needed to be collected for wiping.

It wasn't much good for anything else at the moment.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

4\. 2004

Rumlow groaned under his breath and wiped the sweat from off of his forehead. He looked at the Asset, who was kneeling beside him, and under his breath wondered at how it managed to function when it was wearing full body armour and a mask and goggles.

In fucking Iraq.

Yeah, the army wore the same things, but at least they got to take off their clothes. Rumlow and the STRIKE team had been stationed in this shithole of a house for 5 days, and not once had the Asset even taken off it's mask.

"I don't know how he can stand it." Muttered one of his men. Rumlow nodded grimly and took a swig of water. He glanced at the Asset and saw it shift minutely as it stabilised it's gun. They had been waiting for an armoured convoy of Iraqi diplomats, fleeing in the wake of the war, and the Asset had been commissioned to take them out. Rumlow and his team were there to pick off any stragglers.

Rumblow saw the tension increase in the Assets shoulders and knew immediately that, finally, cars could be seen. He signalled to the rest of his team and they quickly got into position. Rumlow knelt next to the Asset and steadied his own rifle.

The next half an hour was intense, as the Asset blew up the cars and then took head shots. Soon it was a game, as men calle rout points depending on whether they hit man, women or child.

"Fuck, that was beautiful." Rumlow said as a small boy ran for the desert and was shot directly through the head by the Asset. The small body collapsed, and the Asset moved on to it's next target, a man desperately shielding his wife and two small girls.

When there was nothing left but smouldering cars, and jackals were already sniffing at the corpses, Rumlow radioed in their extraction and the rest of the team broke out the beers they had been keeping for a job well done.

Rumlow took off his jacket and kevlar and leaned back against the wall, clinking his beer with his men and keeping the Asset in the corner of his eye. It was kneeling in a corner, slowly reaching up and undoing the straps that kept it's mask and goggles in place. It slowly took them off, and Rumlow watched as its hair immediately stuck to the sweat on it's face. It reached for the water, and took a sip.

"He's kind of hot." Said one of the men. The others joshed him, but Rumlow could see where he was coming from. He knew exactly who the Asset had been, every man in the unit had been briefed, being seeing its face was a whole other story.

The beers continued to flow, and Rumlow got more and more drunk. He took a big gulp of his third beer, and swung his bottle to where the Asset was kneeling.

"It, man," he hiccuped and carried on, "it did this fucking perfect shot, straight through this kids head. Blew like a watermelon, was fucking perfect. I mean, he-"

He would have carried on, but the Asset had lunged at his words, face suddenly twisted in torment. It grabbed the nearest gun, and shoved the barrel under it's chin, pointing it straight under it's head to do the maximum damage.

"Fuck!" Rumlow screeched and pulled out his own gun, firing a shot wildly. It was only when he heard a faint cry that he realised that he had managed to hit the Asset in the arm. There was a clatter as the gun was dropped and quickly picked up, and the Asset curled around it's now broken right arm, crying faintly.

"Why did I shoot?" he asked Rumlow, tears seeping from clouded blue eyes. "Why did I shoot that boy?"

"You better get the helicopters here quick, I've read about this." Said the medic in the company, reaching in to his bag and taking out a syringe. "It's malfunctioning." He inserted the syringe into the Asset's neck. The Asset's eyes slowly closed and he slumped to the floor.

"Malfunctioning?" Rumlow asked. He was annoyingly sober, and glared hard at the Asset.

"Yeah." The medic repacked his bag. "It starts to remember it's past, and then it gets human feelings."

"Oh, man that is just  _wrong_."

"It's a pain in the ass. From what I heard, every time it does this, it tries to commit suicide."

Rumlow frowned. "It can't do that."

The medic glanced at him with a strange expression on his face. "Can't do what?"

Rumlow shrugged. "You can only commit suicide if you're human. Machines don't have that ability. And the Asset is just a machine."

The medic nodded and manoeuvred the Asset so it was lying on it's back. "Just a machine."

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

5\. 2012

There were fucking aliens in New York.

Rumlow was shooting indiscriminately, trying to remain alive and keep both S.H.I.E.L.D and H.Y.D.R.A still running.

And there were fucking _aliens_.

And the main alien man had weird blue eyes and black, black hair, and was riding on a flying...thing... 

And Rumlow kept shooting, because he wanted to live.

And the Asset was next to him, also shooting.

Except now it wasn't, and he was putting it's gun down...

And it was stepping towards the edge...

And it's eyes were glazed with tears...

And they were on top of a  _skyscraper_...

Rumlow lunged and wrapped his arms around the Asset's legs, pulling him back away from the edge. He took out a syringe, and sedated the Asset, radioing in that it had malfunctioned again.

And then he was shooting again, because there were fucking  _aliens_   _in New York_...

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

+1. 2014

Bucky often stared at the man lying next to him, and would occasionally trace the long white scars on his arms. When he was feeling particularly contemplative, he would rub at the faint lines at the back of his neck, where he had been told there were surgery scars, from metal rods being inserted and then taken out when he had fractured the bones in his neck. His forehead bore a faint scar in the hairline.

His entire life, there had only been one home for him. One steady place.

And he knew, that for all his time at H.Y.D.R.A, he had done everything in his power to get back to his home.

He would often tell this to Loki, when they would talk lowly over coffee (tea for Loki, and then fruit drinks when he got pregnant), and Loki would give Bucky a soft, sad smile, and say "I know what it is, to have a home and a purpose in a person also."

Bucky liked talking to Loki. Loki understood.

Bucky knew that he had been a bad person, and that he would spend his entire life atoning for his sins. 

Bucky had spent his entire life, seeing his home in Steve Rogers. When he had been the Asset, he had spent his time trying to get back.

And so Bucky would look at the man lying next to him, and snuggle into that warm welcome embrace, and know only this.

He was finally with Steve, the man he could not live without, even when he had not known who Steve was.

He was finally home.


End file.
